A steady growl filled his mind. Of course Dexter could track that much data.
“And in case you have any doubts about me, I can track that fast as well.” Vaughn’s statement brought Marcus’s focus back from…a very dark place.
“Seriously?”
“Yeah,” Vaughn said. “But then, I am a genius.”
Marcus might have laughed, but the two men they were studying turned around to face him.
“Fuck.” He curled his hands into fists and reminded himself that he needed to stay calm.
“Definitely dwellers,” Vaughn said. “Not a type we’ve seen in Providence before.”
“Yeah, they’re new to town. But not to me.”
Marcus had traveled with Dexter and Porter for years and encountered many different dwellers before they decided to settle in Providence and make a Blades base there. Recruiting Vaughn to the cause had been a big factor in the decision—as had the buried ship. It wasn’t like they could move the thing.
Marcus still had trouble believing all of it was real. No matter how many times he walked the eerily quiet corridors of the ship, no matter how many dwellers he encountered. Somehow, it was easier to believe in monsters than aliens. Especially knowing that he was among the earthlings who’d been colonized.
“Don’t tell me what they are,” Vaughn said. “I want to see if I can figure it out from the data I’m getting.”
Marcus already knew. They were Redcaps.
They looked like a pair of really roughed-up homeless people. Both had long, shaggy beards that grew halfway down their chests and obscured most of their faces. Their beards didn’t just grow down but also out, though it was shorter on the sides of their heads. It was still weird to see someone with a circle of hair sticking straight out around their face.
Most humans wouldn’t stop to look too closely at either of them. Marcus supposed that was on purpose. The part of their features that wasn’t covered with hair was blocked by huge wraparound sunglasses—an odd wardrobe choice hours after sunset.
One was dressed in torn up khakis with a polo shirt and business jacket. The other was wearing a dingy suit with a long-sleeved, button down shirt. The jacket on the first man was from the second man’s suit. Their clothes seemed too big on their frames and were stained and…soiled.
There were all sorts of explanations for their appearance. Mundane, logical explanations. Marcus didn’t live in a mundane world.
A third man joined them, then a fourth and fifth. They were all almost identical—not just from the neck up and with their choices in personal hygiene. How they moved, how they stood, how they all turned as one to stare in Marcus’s direction, ignoring the people passing them on the sidewalk.
They wore bandanas that had probably started out as various colors, but were now mostly saturated with a dark red substance. The thin fabric clung to the tops of their heads, as if something wet and sticky was holding them in place.
Definitely Redcaps.
“The sensors are showing that their body temperatures are way below normal,” Vaughn said. “Only slightly above the ambient temperature of the area. Energy signatures flaring in the head and neck, fading into the torso and limbs.”
“Vaughn, use your eyes. Take off the gridlines and just look at them.”
There was a brief pause.
“Oh. Redcaps.” Vaughn started typing on his keyboard again, a hail of sound coming over the earpiece. “I will always find it bizarre that some dwellers can be identified most easily based on their wardrobe and personal hygiene. I mean, what is it with these guys? Where do they get the bandanas and sunglasses?”
Vaughn sighed, then said, “Logging it in the database. These readings are great. Pretty soon, you’ll be just another Guard among the Blades. Safely ensconced in obscurity.”
“What?”
“Oh. Did I say that out loud?”
“Vaughn…”
There was an unusual pause before Vaughn spoke again. “You’re too effective in the field for a Guard working solo.”
“I’m not solo. I have you, Porter, and Dexter.”
“You have an IT guy, a doctor, and…a super-freaky assassin guy. And granted Dexter does account for some of our high numbers, but he’s not designated as a Guard. He’s the boss. And I guess Porter is, too, since, you know…‘twinsies’. My point is, every Blades of Janus base has a doctor and a boss. But most also have half a dozen Guards at least. We have one—you.”
“What’s the big deal?”
“The big deal is that our outpost is actually more effective at managing dwellers than most. With one Guard. Anyone who bothers to run the numbers is going to notice the pattern.”
“No one notices patterns like you do.”
“Well, thank you. But in this case, it’s an obvious one. If I can give other Blades tools that make it look like you’re just benefiting from my technical expertise, they’re less likely to figure out what’s really going on.”
Less likely to figure out that Marcus wasn’t human.
The skin between his shoulder blades began to prickle. He felt his chest vibrate with a rumbling growl. The damned earpiece probably caught it.
His voice came out much lower than usual and had a gravely edge to it that he couldn’t mask. “I don’t need you to protect me.”
There was a brief pause. Vaughn spoke carefully when he responded, obviously trying to keep from setting Marcus off.
“I know that. But you and I, we look out for each other. We’re not just colleagues. We’re friends, remember?”
More skin on Marcus’s back started to tingle. He closed his eyes and took several deep breaths.
Yes, he and Vaughn were friends. Partners in their mission to keep the peace between dwellers and humans. Protecting members of either species when it was warranted. Exacting justice when it wasn’t.
Above all, though, Marcus protected Vaughn.
A voice that seemed to echo from the back of Marcus’s mind rumbled, “He is your beta. You protect him.”
“Shut. Up.” Marcus said the words out loud, wanting to give them more impact.
Vaughn didn’t miss a beat. “I’m guessing that wasn’t directed at me.”
Vaughn was the only person Marcus had told about the voice that sometimes popped up in his head. Having that extra bit of support didn’t just preserve their friendship—it helped preserve Marcus’s sanity. And it protected Marcus from Dexter finding out.
Marcus was pretty sure it was some sort of manifestation of his dweller. Based on the things it told him to do, he sure as hell hoped so.
“Are you still not recording this?” Marcus said.
“You know, we’ve been having the worst time with our feed tonight. I haven’t been able to get a good enough connection to record any audio since you left the ranch. Wish I had those satellites hooked up.”
Marcus took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Vaughn wasn’t kidding about having Marcus’s back. He’d been protecting Marcus in his own ways ever since they became partners. And that was a good thing.
The voice—his dweller—was silent. For the moment.
“Thanks,” Marcus said.
“I guess it’s hard to find good IT support these days.” Vaughn paused briefly. “Seriously though, are you okay?”
“Yeah. I just need to vent some steam. I have a feeling an opportunity is about to present itself.”
Redcaps had a standing kill order. There was no reasoning with them. No way to even communicate. And they were carnivorous—with very large appetites. Worse, once Redcaps infested a town, it stayed infested.
The Providence base might need to put in a request for more Guards, which meant bringing more Blades in on Marcus’s “personal issue”. If Marcus could root the Redcaps out right away, maybe they wouldn’t be able to get a foothold.
“Let me find you a cozy spot to get to know these guys better,” Vaughn said.
“I’ll try to figure out a way to convince them to follow me.”
>
“You seem to have already secured their interest.”
“They probably think I’m hunting and are wondering if there’s going to be any kind of territorial issue.”
“I take it you’re using the word think loosely.” Vaughn paused for a moment. “Hold on. Who’s that?”
A few people walked along the sidewalks, probably heading home after some happy-hour drinks. There would be even more once the bars closed. One woman in particular looked like she’d had an early start.
Marcus logged details about her quickly. Jeans, knee-high boots, tank top, leather jacket, red hair in long curls trailing down her back. She was stumbling along the street—alone—and heading straight for the Redcaps.
“Easy prey.”
This time, Marcus responded to his dweller internally. Sometimes, its thoughts were too disturbing to share with Vaughn, and Marcus didn’t want to explain this one.
“Not for them.” To make sure he was abundantly clear, he added, “Not for us.”
His dweller had been particularly active lately, though Marcus was doing his best to hide it from his team. Vaughn’s new earpiece was going to make that more difficult.
Marcus shook his head, bringing his thoughts into focus—his own thoughts.
This woman wasn’t prey. No human was prey. Not for him, anyway. The Redcaps were another matter.
Four of them turned in unison to watch her as she walked past. The fifth kept his focus on Marcus.
The woman stumbled past them, walking backwards for a few steps and laughing. “Sorry, boys. You’re a bit hairy for my tastes.”
“I guess you’re out of the running, too,” Vaughn said. “Sorry. That was—”
“Find me that private spot,” Marcus said. “I want to take these things out as quickly as possible.”
Vaughn was typing as he spoke again. “You really need to start carrying a sword like Dexter does. He doesn’t come home smelling rank. I wish we knew why the smell stays even when their bodies disintegrate. I mean, all of their bodily fluids vanish along with the rest of them when they die—or a few minutes after anything is removed from their main body. Why does the smell linger?”
“I have no idea.”
Marcus started across the street as the last Redcap turned toward the woman. All five of them followed her in their awkward gait. She was stumbling almost as badly.
“I guess it helps you track them at least,” Vaughn said.
“That’s a mixed blessing.”
On this side of the road, the Redcaps’ scent was much stronger. Marcus gave Vaughn’s subvocalization a try—not because he was supposed to be learning it, but because he didn’t want to let the foul stench into his mouth. Bad enough it was sticking in his nose.
“Definitely Redcaps,” Marcus said.
“I feel so bad for you right now.”
“Forget washing these clothes. Just burn them.”
Vaughn laughed right up until the woman turned and disappeared from sight down a dark alley. “What is she… Oh, are you kidding me? She just walked down a dead-end alley.”
Marcus noticed. The Redcaps stopped at the mouth of the alley in a tight cluster. He’d seen groups do this a few times while tracking them. Porter theorized that they were communicating somehow. Apparently, these didn’t have much to say. After a few seconds, they headed down the alley after the woman.
Vaughn let out a heavy sigh. “Sometimes I wonder if humanity deserves saving. It’s past midnight and she just walked into a dimly lit alley. What was she doing drinking alone downtown anyway?”
“Not everyone has someone to drink with.”
The thought made his hackles rise further. No one should be alone. She should have family and friends to drink with.
“You could make sure she always has someone. Turning her would be a kindness, if you bring her into your—”
“No.” Marcus pushed against the voice of his dweller even harder.
His dweller hadn’t just been more active lately, it had been more demanding—with very specific demands. It wanted him to make others like him. To infect them with the same dweller that had changed his body.
The only people Marcus could stand to be around were Porter, Dexter, and Vaughn. For some reason, the thought of changing them never entered Marcus’s mind. Maybe because Dexter could easily kill him, Porter was just so…weird, and Vaughn was… Well, Vaughn was Vaughn.
Marcus felt the skin on his back prickle again. He wasn’t sure what had set it off. He wasn’t angry, wasn’t gearing up to fight—yet. Something about the woman was unsettling.
“A better question is why the hell did she just walk down that alley?” Marcus said.
As if she was answering, Marcus heard the sound of retching.
Vaughn groaned. “You had to ask.”
Marcus headed into the alley. A light bulb in a wire cage fought to push back the dark. He could relate.
The woman was bent over, half-hidden by a huge metal garbage bin. She was still coughing and retching. The Redcaps had formed a semi-circle near her, blocking the alley’s exit. They also stood between Marcus and their prey.
“Gross,” she said. She staggered back, nearly bumping into one of the Redcaps. “Oh, sorry about that.”
The Redcap opened its mouth, letting out a high-pitched whistle. Its “beard” twitched to life with erratic movements that were somehow much more graceful than those of its gangly human limbs.
Shiny, stick-like black legs—each equipped with razor-sharp pincers—spread out from the gaping hole in its face. They made clicking sounds as they snapped together over and over. The smell of carrion joined the damp stench of the alley. Marcus shook his head and snorted as he adjusted to the scent.
The fight played out in his head. As soon as she screamed, the Redcaps would attack. Marcus would grab the two closest to him and hurl them back toward the entrance of the alley. He’d be in range to kick the one on his far right, while also backhanding the one on the far left. One at a time, he’d tear off their heads—the most satisfying way to kill his own prey—and their bodies would vaporize.
Except she didn’t scream.
“Ew, what did you eat?” The woman shook her head. “If you had the shellfish, you should have sent it back.”
Vaughn laughed. Marcus might have joined him, but that nagging feeling of danger was back. Danger centering around the woman, not the dwellers circling her.
“Wow, she must be completely wasted to not be freaking out right now,” Vaughn said.
The woman put her hands in the pockets of her jacket and smiled, apparently not at all concerned that the guy’s beard had come to life and was reaching for her. She cocked her head to the side, staring at the Redcaps surrounding her.
No one could be that drunk.
“Why is she wearing a jacket?” Marcus spoke lower than any human could hear. Vaughn’s gadget picked up his words fine, though. Then it started emitting a high-pitched thrumming sound. Marcus resisted the urge to pull the thing out of his ear and stomp on it.
The Redcap drew its arms back into its face and stood up straighter. They all did—arms clamped at their sides and spines stiff as lightning rods. That was new behavior.
“An innocent civilian is about to be eaten by a bunch of Redcaps, and you’re critiquing her fashion sense?” Vaughn said.
“It’s been in the eighties all week.”
“And it’s only May. Welcome to global climate change.”
“She’s wearing a leather jacket and boots,” Marcus said.
If she was really that drunk, she would have taken off her jacket to be more comfortable. Even though she was swaying on her feet, her head cocked to the side as she looked at all the Redcaps in front of her, she had left it on.
She must be roasting. His own ankle-length duster was trapping enough of his body heat to make a normal human uncomfortable. He only wore it to hide his scars and to hold the stingray he carried for stunning dwellers when necessary. And for those times when he
transformed faster than he could strip.
“She’s wearing a jacket, you’re wearing a duster,” Vaughn said. “Which doesn’t go very well with those particular glasses, but I can fix that. I need to design a pair of frames that can hold the sensors and still look stylish.”
“Vaughn, think about the tech later. And when you do, can you fix my earpiece to get rid of this horrible whine?”
“What horrible whine?”
“The one that’s been rattling in my skull for the last minute. It’s distracting.”
“I’m not picking anything up. The earpiece is working fine.”
“Wait a minute.” Marcus turned his head, zeroing in on the true source of the sound—the woman.
He sighed. “She’s a hunter.”
“Shit.”
He could hear Vaughn’s office chair rolling across the operations room floor. The sound of furious typing pummeled Marcus’s ears.
“How do you know?” Vaughn said.
“Instinct.” Marcus could explain the rest later. Right now, he needed his full attention on the situation at hand. “Go silent.”
Finished with assessing the frozen Redcaps, the woman’s gaze finally fixed on Marcus.
“Oh, hey. You didn’t see that, did you?” she said.
Marcus spoke up so Vaughn wouldn’t be the only one who could hear him. “See what?”
She smiled as she approached. Marcus felt his heartbeat pick up when she angled herself to slide between a pair of the stationary Redcaps. She was within inches of two deadly creatures and showed no sign of fear.
“Mmm…” His guts flooded with warmth as his dweller let out a low rumble. “I like her.”
Marcus fought against letting out a growl. He liked her, too.
She kept her gaze locked with his.
Only Dexter ever stared Marcus down, and that was about dominance. This was more a playful invitation. The warmth intensified, blood pooling low.
It didn’t matter how hot it was that she was fearless and challenging without threatening violence—yet. Marcus needed to focus on something other than her curves and her smile and her dark gray eyes, the same color as the stormy sky that had been hovering over Providence for the last week.
Her eyes…
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